Alice Kingsleigh
by TheFutilitarian
Summary: Sequel to "Mirana of Marmoreal". When a realisation forces Alice to return to Underland, what will she find? Warning - implied/actual femslash.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

They say the sea is but a cruel mistress but for Alice the callousness was leaving its embrace. She watched the men as they pulled into port – while they felt joy, she – only sadness; and the overwhelming urge to turn around, never to return.

Like the storm on her first passage to India, the love struck as epiphany. While the waters tossed them like a matchstick, all she could feel was the wonder of it all – the salty spray, the swirling wind, the noise as wave on wave crashed on the hull, determined to destroy them all. She understood the anger and the rage; the power that came from setting your emotions free. After all, it was what she'd longed for all her life, but what well-behaved young ladies didn't do.

"You's a right prop'r sailor now, Miss Kingsley!" they told her afterwards. She grinned, "I am?" They laughed, "Course you're. The sea…she don't take kindly to those she doesn't like. She spared ye and that must mean she sees." "Sees what?" As ever, Alice was full of questions. "Sees someone that she finds worthy." She asked again, "Why is it that you call the sea a 'she'?" Their ribald chuckles split the air. "Not sure you'll ever understand, miss!"

But she would.

Like the choppy seas of China, the comprehension took time to navigate. She'd always known she was different from the rest but it was here, strangely the farthest from her 'home', that she at last learned what she truly was. And all at once, she knew that there would be no Hamish; no Harold, Paul or Mark or John. For those almond eyes spoke of a promise, one that she knew a man could never match. She left right afterwards and didn't linger, afraid she'd been forever changed.

"It isn't proper," she wept to Somerley, "this isn't what I'm meant to be." "Who says?" The cook was gruff. "Who deems what's prop'r and what's not?" Crying the harder, she whispered brokenly, "They do." To this he countered, "And who are they?" Infused by anger, she spat out, "Do not play games! You know exactly who I mean – the world." He laughed, wrapping his arm around her in a hug, then murmured quietly in her ear, "Well then, little Alice – just find another."

But then, of course, she already had.

Like the gentle waters of Antigua Bay, the realisation lapped at her for many years. And all that time she dreamt of hair more white and fine than any sand. Assuming it was all a fantasy, she sailed the seas, trapped in a fruitless search. For every time she tried to settle, the sea would call her forth again.

"What is it ye be seeking, lass?" one day Nathaniel asked her. "You know, Nate, I don't rightly know." He laughed, "Then how's it ye'll ken when you will find it?" "I ask myself that question every day." All of a sudden, he sobered. "She doesna exist, ye ken…the woman that ye seek." She frowned back, "What makes you think that is my search?" "Because we've all been where ye are the now. Each one of us has looked for her, in turn. Naught but a dream that most sailors have – to find the one that will replace the sea." As if all it needed was a voice, inside her head the picture coalesced. "What happens if you find her, Nathaniel? But you don't understand and walk away?" He clapped her heartily on the shoulder, "Well 'en, my Alice, ye walk back," he winked, "and pray to Neptune, she ain't mad."


	2. The White Rabbit

**Port of Southampton – 2 years later**

But how to get back to a world that you can't find? What if that world remains forever lost?

"Yer gatherin' wool, again."

She chuckled. "Then I shall have a fine winter's coat."

"No' much need for a coat where we be goin'."

She heard the wistfulness behind his words.

"Do you truly miss England so much, Nate?"

"It be my home, Alice. One day ye'll ken your own."

"What if you couldn't go back? What if you never saw these shores again?"

"Well…" he stroked his beard, "being hardy, I'd survive. But it'd be a sore 'un, that's fer sure. I'd always feel a longin' in my breast."

She lowered her head so she could blink back tears, knowing first hand the pain of which he talked.

"Ah but 'tis a fine morning, Alice! It's nae the time fer heavy maudlin thoughts. Instead, I say we go fill our bellies. Who kens when we may eat good hearty food again!"

Just as they turned to go, they heard all the commotion, the shouts of "Catch 'im! Catch 'im afore he gets away."

The watched a group of young lads curse and scamper, unable to sight the target of their pursuit. It wasn't till they got much closer, that something leapt right in her arms. Caught out by surprise, she clutched it closer, pink watery eyes conveying its relief.

"Good catch, Miss." "We're lucky you was 'ere." Each one of them whipped off their caps and tugged on their forelock. "We thought we'd lost 'im and would miss a stew!"

A tug of recognition pulled at her, a frown settling on her face. "How much?"

"Fer what, miss?"

"To buy him from you."

The tallest youth stammered, "Um…we wasnae really…"

"5 shillings," Alice blurted out.

"Deal."

"Alice, are ye daft, girl? I can get ye ten rabbits fer that," Nathaniel's huffed in outrage.

"But I want this one, Nate. Please pay the man."

Grumbling his disgust, he counted out the coin begrudgingly. "Be off with ye, ya thieving beggars." Once they departed, he turned around. "I've told yer about that afore, Alice. You make yourself an easy mark."

"If I can spare the coin, Nate, what does it matter? And there's something about…"

"There's summat about it alright! It'll make a fine meal, just feel its haunch."

The eyes that stared into hers transmitted grave offence at Nate's firm touch. She laughed, "I'm not sure that he means for us to eat him."

"Lord give me strength, don't ye be getting crazy fancies. The men'll no tolerate that rabbit on the ship."

She recognised the truth of those words. "You're right." Stroking the rabbit's silky fur, she murmured, "You go on enjoy your breakfast, Nate. I'll just nip to the trees to set him free."

He rolled his eyes and she was sure he muttered, "Women…" before he said out loud, "I'll see ye on the ship."

Sauntering in the opposite direction, she glanced back till she saw him disappear, swallowed up by the crowd of a busy docks.

"Well, looks like it's your lucky day," she whispered, cradling the animal closer to her chest.

"I think that's bloody well unlikely given the hell that I've experienced today!"

So startled she almost dropped him, she spun round searching for the owner of that voice.

"What are you doing? Oh don't tell me, you have forgotten I can talk."

Alice glanced round again, checking once more that this was not a trick.

"Oh please, no, take your time; by all means, waste away the day!"

She searched her memory and frowned, "You know, I vaguely recall you being a little more…nice."

"Yes, well," he huffed, "whilst you've been gone a great deal of things have changed. I suppose I have as well." He looked her up and down. "And you have not exactly stayed the same."

"Yes, I am much more muchier than before," she teased.

He bit off tersely, "That remains to be seen."

Deciding just to cut right to the chase, she asked, "Why are you here?"

He sighed, "I am afraid that Underland requires your help once more."

She tried to stem the thrill of joy that speared her, the thought that at long last, she would see _her_. "Another Jabberwocky to defeat? I would've guessed its kind might run a little low."

A shadow darkened Nivens' eyes, "I wish I could but find amusement as yourself. But once again, I'm at a loss for cause."

A chill wound its way down her spine. "Iracebeth? Has she returned?"

In shock she watched a tear trace his cheek, "I wish. That would be easier to bear."

"T-then who?" she whispered.

"Follow me." He hopped out of her arms. "This truth you must discover for yourself."


	3. Down The Rabbit Hole

What truth is it he couldn't tell her? What horrors would this trip reveal?

Her fall down the rabbit hole unending, she found herself with plenty time to think. At once she felt regret bloom in her, aware she'd never said goodbye. Nate, Somerley, her mother, Margaret –she'd left them questioning her fate. She wondered how long they would miss her; knew for a fact she'd always miss them.

_You won't be leaving here this time? Do you mean you truly plan to stay?_

_This is where I belong, I am accepted here. And there's…umm…there's h…._

_Her? How do you plan to woo her when you won't say her name?_

_Shut up, I'll figure something out, _she blushed.

_There are honestly times I am embarrassed to be your voice; not one of reason, as you've quite clearly none of that._

_Take care to note you are free to leave!_

_And trust me, if I could I would! _

_You know you're really quite annoyi_…her inner dialogue was interrupted by an oomph.

As she was bounced from the mattress, her body painfully hit the floor.

"You know, perhaps you'd care to place a cushion, or you could even pad the room?" But by the time she'd raised her head to mutter this, the rabbit had already gone.

Of course the door was not the right size, or maybe she, the right size for the door. It took some minutes of "Drink Me" "Eat Me" before at last she walked right through.

During that time, Nivens had been quite busy, a fetching herald's coat now covering his fur. Examining his timepiece crossly, he muttered, "You're even slower than before."

"I would be faster if you cut the riddles."

"You'd be much quicker if you used your head!"

"Did I already mention that I used to like you better?"

"Did I already tell you that you talk too much?"

She spun around in a circle, refreshing the memories in her head. She had forgotten the flora and the fauna, the sheer size and colour of it all. Dragging her hand along the petals, she whispered, "Nothing much's changed."

"Not yet, not here," Nivens answered, "but trust me, it will not be long."

As they tread the path, she questioned further, "How many years since I've been gone?"

"We do not count time as you do. All I can say is that you've missed too much."

"And have been missed?" she teased him gently, trying to take the sorrow from his voice.

"And how." Far bleaker, he mumbled, "much more than you will ever know."

"I can imagine quite a bit."

"Your mind won't stretch to going there. That's why I need for you to see."

"See what?" she groused in irritation, "just tell me and stop playing games."

"This is no game, Alice," he snapped at her. "All of our fates rest in your hands."

"What is it that so threatens you? What is it you cannot defeat?"

"It's not always about winning, Alice. At times a victory's but a loss."

His cryptic words wound around her body, dragging along an arctic chill. "Why would you choose not to defeat it, why -" She stopped as realisation numbed her lips.

"Perhaps I was a little hasty; you seem much smarter than before. That's good, you'll need your wits about you, or you will not even last out the day."

She halted. "I won't go any further. Not until you say which one of them has turned."

Nivens sighed, "It's not that's simple, Alice. There are none of us just bad or good."

"The truth," she crossed her arms, not budging, "or I shall turn and walk away."

"More stubborn than you used to be, that's certain to be handy too. Don't make me tell you, Alice," at once he seemed to get much smaller, "for even still, I cannot bear to say."

A tremor shook her, "Then don't say it. Just tell me one thing – where we head."

He stooped down on all fours. "Marmoreal."

She barely heard him for the roar in her head. "No. I do not believe it."

"You do not think that we have said the same?" His grief was palpable, "This should have never happened. Not once the crown was returned."

"I do not care how long it's been, I still remember her! She was more pure and good than anyone I know."

Nivens hung his head in sadness, "That is a guise she wears well. All those years ago, you were a child; you simply saw what she had wanted you to see. You were her champion, Alice; you, above all, were never supposed to learn the truth."

"What truth?"

"That she is not angelic. That in her heart, she's not all good."

"What of her vows?"

"Another shield. Each one designed to enforce the rest."

"What does she guard against?"

"You still don't see it. It's all about what she fences in."

"And what is that?"

"Her own nature. The one she shares with her kin."

"She's nothing like her," Alice fiercely defended, "she and Iracebeth are poles apart."

"That is what all of us had thought; what those that truly knew her, hoped. Alas, we were clearly mistaken, now this whole land will pay the price."

"But she was fine, queen once more. So tell me, Nivens, what has changed?"

He sighed, "Just one thing, Alice."

At her wordless prompt, he slew her, "You."


	4. The Truth of Things

"Me?" Her mouth hung open in astonishment. "What is it I could possibly have done?"

"Not what you did but what you didn't. You made your choice; one not to stay."

The accusation's weight hung in the air between them, still more oppressive than the summer's heat.

"I had -" correcting herself, she continued, "I _have_ a life that wasn't here. There was much I'd to experience still."

He instantly glanced up to measure her, too sharp not to have caught the slip. "You are not leaving here, are you?" He brightened, "Then it's not too late."

"Don't get any ideas, Nivens. This knowledge doesn't bend me to your will."

"I have no wish to force you. I won't need to. Not once you see yourself what she's become."

"And what have _you_ done?" Now the one so bitter, she railed, "Her friends, how have they helped?"

"They've done all that they can to save her. Their reward? A prison; one and all."

"What - even Hatter?"

Nodding sadly, he said, "You are the only one that's left."

"How is it that you think I'll change her? Why, where they failed, I'll succeed?"

"You are her champion," he fidgeted, "and also, there's one more thing."

"Well, what?"

His ears reddened slightly. "I'm…well…ah…thinking of how to say."

"Is this to do with what you told me? Her decline - because I left?"

"Yes," he fiddled with his collar, "your one advantage over else."

"So, are you planning to have me guess it?"

"If you were smarter, you'd already know."

"Well, you can stand here all day insulting me and we will be no closer to our goal."

"She likes you," he blurted out suddenly, "much more than as a friend."

"Explain," she rejoined woodenly, "be very precise about what you say."

"The darkness, it lives inside her constantly, and every day, she walks its flinty edge. Each cut, invisible to all of us, yet just as real – so yes, she bleeds. However, it is not her blood she loses, only the goodness of her soul. Yet, as a balm, I saw you soothed her; your presence healed each tiny cut. She was so different around you; not knowing her, you couldn't tell. It took some time for me to figure it, to understand emotion that she felt. She is a monarch, may be ageless, and yet deep down – she's still naïve. She's spent her life shut off from everyone, trying her best to fight within, that when it hit I doubt she recognised, knew what it was..."

"What?"

"Alice - love."

Stunned into silence she regarded him, conveying her utter disbelief.

Gazing in turn, his stare challenged her, defied her to deny the truth.

When once again control was gained, she asked, "Why did she not request I stay?"

"She'd never ask it of you, Alice, not even aware of what she felt. It was your choice, not hers to force it; if you must question, you have never loved. "

"I have loved," she revealed self-consciously, "but I haven't always known it was love." More mindful of how he read her, her words ensured that he wouldn't guess.

"Then you might understand how much it hurt her; how hard it would've been to let you go. The flint inside became a razor, now far more cutting with its aim. With all the things to be attended to – the mess Iracebeth had left - I am ashamed to say we missed it, and then..."

He paused.

"Then?"

"There was not much left. First off – the court, disbanded quickly; all of them banished to their homes. Then us – held further at a distance, until no longer did we hold a sway. Each one appealed to her better nature, each one rejected; caged, in turn. She does not trust, Alice, not anyone; all save for one – her own dark voice."

"What else," she whispered numbly, "How far is it she's truly gone?"

"She hasn't killed - that is your answer, at least…not anyone I know."

"But?"

"But each day the darkness grips her tighter. We all know – that is not so far away."

"Then tell me what to do. How do I save her?"

"Oh Alice, do you really think I know? Had I that knowledge, I would see it happen, and you would not be our last resort."

She walked beside him and she pondered, mulling things over, lost in thought.

And when at last they neared Marmoreal, she sighed and spoke, "I think I know how I can help with what she's wrought."


	5. The Pain of Confessions

What if her ploy was not enough to save her? What if confessions proved to be in vain?

With Nivens gone to execute her bidding, she walked the grounds, questioning herself. At last she saw the signs of the darkness, its presence draining life itself. The cherry trees, so barren of their colour; the petals shrivelled – brown and still. The balustrade, no longer white nor flawless; the skeins of grey reflecting stain within.

The tall white knights, forever watchful, observed her as she reached the room. Their silence, somehow overwhelming, more thunderous than any din. Just vacant armour, but they judged her; their condemnation prickling her skin.

She reached the throne and her gaze met metal; its blaze impossible to miss. For whilst around it lay chaos, the silver shone yet pristine. Her hand reached out to touch its coldness, encountering warmth instead. Each link appeared to chime in welcome, the breastplate beckoned its embrace. The Vorpal sword – it seemed to whisper; its glint just so to lure her in. She picked it up, its weight more heavy, or maybe that was just her heart.

"A-alice?"

That voice. So haunting. So familiar. Yet one that she had never truly known.

She turned, the sword still clutched against her, its mass a weapon and a shield.

"Welcome to Marmo…" The White Queen seemed to falter, her gaze becoming yet confused. "This isn't right, not how it happened." Her hands restlessly fluttered at her side.

"Not how it happened? What?" Now Alice questioned, herself completely lost in turn.

"Why - you don't speak. Not till much later. And that is never what you said."

"Said when?"

"When you arrived. When you first brought it. When…" The queen's eyes clouded again.

An arrow pierced its understanding, its aim at once precise and keen. "Mirana, I am not a fantasy. I'm real. Alice. This is not a dream."

Mirana chewed her lip in hesitation, the shadows flitting through her eyes. "The Alice?" The dark pools hardened slowly, an inky blemish on her face.

"Yes," whispering quietly, Alice nodded, "The Alice. Mirana, I've returned."

"No."

Again she saw the battle wage within her. Again the darkness won its hand.

"This is another ruse designed to trick me. I will admit, more clever than before."

"This is no trick," her eyes implored Mirana, "just tell me what to offer you in proof."

"I see the proof right here before me. You're not the Alice of before."

"Of course not, it has been ten years. All of us can't remain as we were."

"No. You are right," again a hesitation; a rueful shake of a dishevelled head. "Change is inevitable, so is destiny, even a queen cannot avoid her fate."

At last she had a chance for observation and now she understood what Nivens meant. Stripped of façade, the darkness triumphed, its reach malignant and widespread. The lips – now black, a room late evening; the eyes – a starless midnight sky; but most of all – the hollow sockets, the bruises in place of pale skin.

"Mirana, tell me when you rested. Do you remember when you slept?"

"I-I don't know. It has been forever. Perhaps…" a shaky hand ran through her hair, "…not really since you left."

"Ten years?" Alice spoke in anguish, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"Ten years?" Mirana parroted; bewildered, "Good heavens, is that all it's been?"

"You need to rest," Alice advanced towards her.

"I can't. I tried that once before."

"And?"

"I just closed them for a second. And then…"

"Then?"

"When they opened…you were gone."

The mournful murmur echoed quietly, its thrust more sharp than any blade. "Mirana, you don't have to worry. I won't leave your side again."

"N-no, you can't keep that promise. Won't. You have already left me many times."

"All in your head. It never happened. I left just once."

"Or so you say." This tone cold and mocking, the black now a sardonic gaze, "All lies. Yours, theirs, someone else's – each one designed to hold a sway."

"None of us lie. I beg you, listen. It has a hold on you you cannot shake."

"It?" Now Mirana whispered coldly. "Which it, pray tell me - truth?"

"You have imprisoned all that love you! It blinds you to what is right."

"No, Alice, it does not conceal things. Instead, it chooses to reveal."

"Then tell me," Alice moved beside her, "explain to me what it shows?"

"What it is like to cast off shackles, to be all that you're meant to be."

"What - her? Do not forget that I was here, I saw Iracebeth and what she was."

"Then you should understand – the freedom, the power of reign to what lies within."

Despair swiftly surged within her, Mirana never having been so lost. "What of your vows? She had no scruples. I cannot say the same of you."

"All things must end, they've served their purpose, and I will break them if I need."

"No, I will not believe this. The queen I knew could never harm a fly."

"The queen you knew?" Mirana's laughter split the air, "Or just the one I wanted you to see?"

"Neither," Alice pronounced; forlorn, "the woman with whom I fell in love."

Mirana blanched; both pallor and the dark receding. "That is the cruellest trick as yet."

"I wish it was," the tears came faster. "Alas - the only callousness? Its truth."

"There'll be no prison cell for you," her hands betrayed Mirana's agitation, "this time you truly go too far. I can't allow this to continue. You know precisely how to make me weak."

"Mirana…"

"Stop! For once, be quiet. Guards! Order her execution to be at dawn."

"What's wrong, Mirana?" Alice whispered, reaching out to still a trembling hand. Both women paused, before she finished, "Are you afraid to make it so yourself?"

"I-I'm not afraid," the quiver conflicted; gave Alice all the impetus she sought. She wrapped her hand around Mirana's, surreptitiously inching for the sword. "And when the time comes, I won't hesitate."

"Good," moving far too quick for the queen to see, she spun the sword as they both held it, imbedding its tip, "Then you can start with me."


	6. Uneasy Truce

The fire that ripped through her right side seared unbearably, Alice biting clean through her lip in order not to scream. The tangy taste of blood coated the inside of her mouth, the sticky warmth also dripping down her skin. She watched horror darken the eyes in front of her, alongside it – something else. The darkness leapt in satisfaction, the act quenching its endless thirst for blood. Triumphant, it seemed to linger for a moment, then as if pleased with having gotten its way, receded to her depths.

"A-alice?" As if at once, Mirana came to her senses, her hands shaking harder than before. Losing her strength, unable to hold her own steady, Alice groaned as the action jarred the sword. The pain in her side flared that much brighter, the result – light-headedness that fogged her thoughts.

"You are precisely insane," Mirana's hands firmed, gently extracting the blade to drop it absentmindedly to the floor. "Even more mad than when you were here before."

Her laugh hysterical, Alice replied, "Well, your majesty, I've heard all the best people tend to be."

"You've spent entirely too long with Hatter," the queen's admonishment appeared almost fond. "You shouldn't listen to what he says."

Seizing her chance, Alice queried, "So you imprison people that you'd rather not hear talk?"

"Imprison?" Miranda appeared bewildered again. "I don't know what you mean. He isn't here, Alice, but I can assure you that Tarrant is alright."

"Then where is he, Mirana? Tell me his location. What tricks has it played upon yourself?"

"It? Alice, I am used to nonsense but not from you. You aren't yourself. Please, you must allow me take care of that wound."

Stepping backwards out of reach as Mirana tentatively stretched her hand toward her, Alice slowly shook her head. "No. I won't let you touch me. Not until we have truly talked." Pushing her hand against her side to stem the flow of blood, she willed herself to carry on.

"Alice, _please_." Again, the queen appeared to plead. "You're so terribly hurt." Fingers quivering in reflection of the anguish and worry that overshadowed her eyes, Mirana murmured, "I have a potion that -"

"I said no," Alice did her best to infuse her flagging voice with steel. "There is no potion to reverse what you have done."

"What do you mean?"

"I speak about your vows. Do you remember your promise to never kill or harm?"

Again, she saw the darkness flare quietly, "Don't blame me for what you, yourself, have done."

"But it is not today I speak of. Too long you've lingered under its control. How long is it since you've been outside, Mirana? Out of these stone walls, out from its reach? Do you even know what's happening inside your own kingdom? Have you seen what Marmoreal, what _you_, have now become?"

"I do not need to leave the palace to see what's happening around me. The air in here is just as foul with the stench of lies."

"Come with me, let me show you," Alice begged. "It's truly simple. Here," she trembled now with pain and fatigue, "just take my hand. We can do this together, Mirana. I promise you, you'll never have to bear this burden alone again."

"This isn't something that we can share." Mirana's eyes grew cold, losing any trace of temporary concern. "Don't ever presume that you can hope to understand."

"I know," Alice's voice was ever gentle. "I grasp enough to know it won't end. Let me help you, Mirana, please – the way I've saved you once before. I was your champion, I am _still_. In more ways than I could've ever truly guessed. We are meant to be together, you and me, I understand now. The years that passed - they were only just a test."

"Just…a test? Regardless of what the years have been to you, they've never been a mere _just_ anything to me. My champion? You slew me as surely as that monstrous creature with your choice to leave. No. The wake of that devastation is something I will not allow again."

"I won't apologise for what had to happen, Mirana. You must know that I needed to grow up. I'm only sorry that I didn't have the foresight to see what I had been to you back then, and what you'd truly meant to me. What you still, and always will be to me, Mirana." Alice looked into the eyes of the withdrawing woman, "I will say this just one more time, please listen to my words." She clutched the queen's pale hand, the movement jarring her wound, coursing another round of pain through her body. "I will _not_ leave you ever again."

The queen bestowed a measured look, calculation gleaming where innocence once reigned. "Then stay," Mirana's tone held only indifference. "If that is what you truly wish, I will not cast you from this place. But you are nothing to me now – not my love, my champion, nor even a prisoner within these walls. I will afford you the kindness you once gave me but more than that? It will be _just_ like all the years that have passed – you simply don't exist. Guards," Mirana waved her hand, "take her to my quarters. Rinse her wound; I will be there shortly to mend it."

Striding away with purpose, Mirana left Alice swaying on her feet, blood seeping out between her hands to stain the dress. Wincing, she turned to lean heavily on the arm of the soldier acting as escort. Her journey to Mirana's chamber passed as a blur, her mind lost in the torment of knowing that she – the key part of her plan – had not proved to be nearly enough.


	7. The Substance of Dreams

She was lost in her favourite dream – down below deck, cushions spread everywhere, lying in the comfort of another's arms. As always, the face remained concealed from her – a pale ghostly haze. The harder she tried to make the woman out, the more the image blurred in front of her. Gentle fingers fluttered through her hair, smoothing the blonde strands from her brow.

"Tell me who you are," Alice begged shamelessly, the way she pleaded every time.

"You know me Alice," the whisper's strand floated through the air; lingered. "As you have always known yourself."

Finding courage where she'd never had the strength to summon it before, she asked, "What if I've never known w-who I am?" Her voice was plaintive, shook a little, exposing as she was her innermost fear.

The laughter tinkled, more melodious than crystal, "Well then, I am afraid that you can never know me."

"That isn't fair." Involuntarily, Alice felt tears well up.

"No, most things are not, my dear." The fingers seemed to lose their gentleness, tugged more insistently, "Is it fair that you refuse to see?"

"See…ouch, you are hurting me," Alice whimpered as the fingers tightened in her hair.

"Not half as much as you are hurting me."

"How?" Looking down in bewilderment, Alice was met by the sight of her motionless hands.

"Because you've never looked closer; like the rest of them, you shy away, afraid of what it is that you will see."

"And what is that?" The pain was stronger now, a dull persistent throbbing ache. Yet, Alice pressed on, having never been here beforehand, her dream so changed; on the precipice of truth.

"Why, what I am; what dwells within me…when the veneer is peeled away."

The pain leapt to blinding, Alice now barely gasping out, "All of us keep our secrets. The sum of what we hide does not make us who we are."

"No," the laughter rose higher; turned reedy, cruel. "But if you refuse to see," the blur began to clear, coalesced into an image; one Alice scrabbled to get away from as the garish heart painted lips moved closer to her own before breathing softly, "Then tell me, my dear Alice, how will you _ever _love me…for me?"

"Iracebeth!" Alice bolted upright, scrambling backwards, in the next instant almost passing out again as a knife of white hot pain stabbed her side.

"Alice, please." The voice, a mixture of unknown and familiar, Mirana's but also – Alice swallowed a cry of understanding – the woman in her dreams.

"It's you, it's always been you," she breathed her newfound knowledge.

Mirana's face twisted into a sneer, "You told me mere hours ago that I am not her. Have you already changed your mind? If so – you prove yourself to be even more fickle than I thought."

"No, that isn't what I meant. Y-you –" abruptly halting her speech she replayed the scene within her mind, the truth of what the dream Mirana was trying to reveal.

"I-I-I…?" Mirana mocked her stammer. "You should think a little more before you speak." Gliding brusquely, Mirana hovered close as she examined Alice's side, her once flowing movements now awkward and oddly disjointed. "I see that you have ripped your stitches for the second time."

"Third time's the charm?" Alice tried to joke weakly.

Mirana frowned, "Even unconscious, you wriggle more than a freshly speared worm. You should be more mindful, Alice," the shadows in the dark eyes danced their anger, "lest I decide you're not worth the effort of repairing again."

"Repairing?" At once Alice's pride reared sharply, "I am not a contraption, Mirana, nor a toy!"

"No?" The shadows leapt a little quicker, the fingers pressed harder, Alice barely stifling a moan. "I wouldn't be so sure, my _dear_, for you _are_ mine to do with as I please."

Changing her tactics, Alice painfully moved into the probing hand, "And what exactly pleases you, your Majesty? Tell me, would you like to see a little more of this?" Moving Mirana's hand from where she pressed into her side, Alice held the fingers up between them, their tips now coated with blood. "You long for it, don't you Mirana? How many years have you suppressed the urge?" The darkness twisted, coiled, purred its pleasure, Mirana's eyes betraying her every thought. And yet beyond the darkness lay the glimmer of revulsion, horror – utmost aversion – the very thing that Alice sought.

"I-I will fetch more of the potion and the needle," Mirana's voice trembled lightly, this time the stammer very real. Rapidly moving towards the door, she turned as she neared it, pronouncing lightly, "I am certain that I shouldn't have to voice this but it is in your best interests that you do not…move." Her concerned words were accompanied by an airy smile but Alice discerned them for what they were – a warning and a threat.

Nodding, she acquiesced, lying back down; at once fully realising where she was – Mirana's bed. Her fingers lightly traced a pattern, brushing the space where an indentation ought to be. Inhaling deeply, she breathed in Mirana's flowery scent, breathed out her longing; delicately caressed the other pillows with a sigh. So lost was she within her fantasy that it was a while before she felt a touch of something brush along her thigh. Startled, she recoiled and threw the sheets back, encountering now familiar eyes filled with wry amusement and mirth. Nivens snorted, whispering sarcastically, "Well, I can only extend my gratitude you didn't scream."

"Or squash you!" Alice heatedly exclaimed in anger, annoyed that he'd snuck up on her like that.

"Trust me – I am much more quicker than you think. Now, shush, Mirana will be back at any moment, and I must tell you what I stole in here to say."

As if on queue, they heard a shuffle, the light tread of a footstep, the swishing of a dress. Hopping down, Nivens scampered off into the farthest corner, producing a key with which he appeared to open a non-existent door. Half stepping through it, he turned to close it shut behind him, hissing quietly, "What I came to tell you, your request, it's done."

Alice mouthed, "Thank you," as the other door opened slowly, hastily sliding back under the covers, his words steeling her to push on with her plan.


	8. Love's Tricks

The needle wove in and out – precise, methodical – guided by a steady hand; and yet the rest of her betrayed Mirana, especially the hint of torture in her eyes.

Desperate to alleviate the pain they both felt, Alice whispered, "Tell me what you've been doing these past ten years."

"Why? What is it you'd care to know?"

"Why it did not work, what has changed, how I can help you…." She brushed her hand along Mirana's side.

The tremor that passed – another telling sign – was sharply counted by, "I need no saving, Alice. There is no… monster needing to be slain… by your hand."

"I beg to disagree but we don't need to talk about that. I merely wish to know what you've been doing. Just think of us as long lost friends catching up over a pot of tea."

"I see no tea." A bewildered Mirana glanced around the room.

Alice barely dared to breathe, lest she betray herself, "Well, you are queen. Have someone fetch it… if that will help you to believe."

"We are not long lost friends. I told you we are nothing to each other. But fine," she frowned in sudden irritation, "perhaps the tea will settle you at last." Picking up a tiny bell, she let its loud tone whistle through the room, the door opening scant seconds later, a guard enquiring, "Yes, your majesty?"

"Order a servant to fetch some tea."

The needlework resumed, Alice continued, "Well, if we are friends…" Seeing Mirana's thunderous expression, she hastily corrected, "… were we to be friends, which we are not, we are simply passing the time whilst you… repair me, perhaps we can converse about what I've seen."

"I do not need to know nor care about other worlds," Mirana's airy words could not conceal a glimmer, the light of curiosity in her eyes.

"Then you can simply listen. If you do not wish to reveal your hidden secrets, then I can tell you mine to pass the time. It takes my mind off the pain," Alice made her tone as plaintive as possible, hardly an act given then needle's fiery sting.

"Very well, though I grow weary of your chatter. A trait I see the passing of ten years hasn't changed."

"I think you like the sound of my voice," Alice leaned in to whisper close to Mirana's ear. A shudder was the confirmation that she sought. Having received it, she reclined quickly, not quite avoiding the sharp pull of the neat new thread.

"I think…" before Mirana could finish, a quiet knock appeared to break her concentration, "Yes…"

"The tea that you requested," Nivens carefully hopped into the room, the tray precariously balanced on his two front paws.

"Since when do you fetch the tea?" Mirana's brow rose in question – suspicion written all across her face.

"Ah, since he… since you…" Nivens appeared to struggle with the right words till he settled on, "since Biggins… is not here to carry out his duties."

"Oh," this time Mirana's brows drew together in confusion before she shook her head and waved her hand, "leave it here beside the bed."

Nivens' eyes flicked to Alice's as he came to stand behind Mirana, then to the cup; then swiftly glanced away. "Your majesty," he bowed, depositing the pot. "Is there anything else that you require?"

"No, Nivens, that will be all for now."

He bowed and hopped out of the room.

"I still remember tea with Hatter and the March Hare and –"

"Enough. I do not need the trip down memory lane, Alice. Unlike you, I have been present for these events many a time."

"Then you must miss them equally as much."

"I d-do not miss a thing. No, these days, I prefer silence. My work is done," Mirana's fingers deftly knotted and snapped off the thread, "please have the courtesy to honour my request."

"Of course," there would be time for stories and confessions later, when Mirana was well, when she was herself again. Meanwhile, "the tea…" Alice nodded to it with her head.

"Fine," Mirana poured out two cups worth, stirring in three spoons of sugar. "This will stand you in good stead for all the shock."

"The loss of blood or seeing you?" Alice enquired boldly.

"The loss of speech," Mirana's sardonic gaze cut right through Alice, "which if it doesn't come voluntarily, I'll aid by cutting out your tongue."

No hint of mirth evident in the dark brown eyes, Alice decided not to push, raising her cup in cheer; then almost downing all the liquid in one gulp. The act prompted an utterly appalled look from Mirana but she pinched her lips and didn't say a word. But what it forced was for the monarch to take corresponding action, downing her own in several quick, delicate, sips.

"I am so sorry, Mirana." She could feel the liquid coursing through her veins, a veil of hazy mist descending faster than she thought. "I was wrong to leave, I mean… no, I wasn't… but it was wrong of me not to tell you how I felt."

"I do not wish to hear… " the queen's abrupt rise was halted by an unsteady swaying, her trembling hand going up to lightly massage her temple. "What is happening?"

"As I have said, I am sorry… for many things, even for this. It was the only course of action left to take…"

"What have you done?" Mirana's legs seemed to collapse, she descending back onto the bed in a less than graceful heap. "What is this?" Her eyelids lowered, rose again, then lowered even quicker, it taking everything she had to raise them once again.

"Ssshhh…" Alice forced herself to fight the fog, to switch position, push Mirana down gently. "It's nothing, just a simple potion to help you sleep."

She saw the darkness push back to the fore but it was powerless to fight Mirana's body, nature, and the magic, receding back to slumber as the queen. "I thought…" the whisper was almost soundless, as helpless as a child's, one lone tear seeping out to roll down pale bruised skin. "You were my champion… the one I trusted never to betray me." The last was barely breathed out between the stilling lips.

"I never would." Her own darkness hurtling towards her, Alice bent down to hover over those dark lips. Everything within her begged to steal a touch, a taste – that which she longed for right in front of her – and yet she hesitated, unable to complete that act. She raised her hand instead, it taking all her strength, and brushed the lone strand of hair trapped between those lips just as she longed to be ensnared by them. Reaffirming once again, she laid her head down beside the monarch's, entwining their hands as she gave in to her own slumber, "And I never will."


	9. The Price of Truth

**A/N: **And so we come to the end of the 2nd instalment. The story (and this Malice) will continue in Iracebeth of Crims. Where I promise there might be _actual_ femslash, to the tune of at least a kiss! Thanks to everyone for sticking with this and hopefully wandering down the intriguing path that is Iracebeth, to see exactly what and who lies underneath the mask. I also hope to dig quite deep and try get to the root of that pesky darkness, after all, as all good therapists would say... you need to get down to the root. ;-)

As always, thank you to the following commenters that I couldn't reply to directly: MaliceLoverEntotale, roflroflrofl, K-Dog, .7, TheEternalSinner, Lisey, Roxie, celina, and Liquid Summer.

And thank you, of course, to everyone else for reading as well.

As always, do enjoy!

* * *

The climb back up was as laborious as it was tiring, Alice barely managing to open her eyes.

"Welcome back," the sarcasm in the voice reflected in his face, the empty vial dangling in his paw. "You weren't _supposed_ to drink the tea, you idiot, but I _suppose_ your incompetence is hardly any great surprise."

"I had to be convincing, Nivens, I am sure you'd do better. You've only had ten years, what's ten years more?"

"She let down her guard, she only does around you, though quite exactly what she sees in you, I'll never really know."

"Perhaps she sees acceptance where there's usually but censure…"

Nivens rolled his eyes, "Yes, you are saint. I can't imagine how I failed to tell."

"Is she here?" Alice enquired testily.

"Yes," Nivens seemed to cower, "she is in the throne room. But Alice, I must warn you – she's much changed."

"Ten years in exile will do that to a person."

"No, what's occurred is something unexpected… but by all means go see it for yourself."

The walk along the corridor passed mostly in silence, except a quick, "What happened to the guard?"

"He's one of us. Most of the army is loyal to the queen but to the one she was, they still follow her orders for the moment, but they all long for the return of her… good days."

Outside the door, he stopped, "Are you certain, Alice? What if this is not the answer? If you enlist her help you must reveal the truth and there's no telling what she'll do. Even chained and shackled, she will plot and scheme."

"Then I will take away her shackles." At Nivens' horrified look, Alice clarified, "I cannot do this were she to resist. She is the key, I cannot explain how I know but I can feel it. She needs to want to help me, only she can heal."

"Heal? Alice, she is not Mirana, never has been."

"Oh, but that is where you're precisely wrong. You said yourself you'd hoped that they weren't the same but ultimately it has proven otherwise. It seems they're both doomed to travel the same path. I had a dream, a crazy dream, and yet I've seen it many times, it's just that I have never known its meaning. It's clear now though – I must understand."

"What?"

"Their true nature, where the darkness comes from, what it craves and what will… satisfy its need."

"That is a treacherous road to meander."

"I am well aware, but even so, I know that I must try."

"Be careful around her, Alice. Never trust her. No matter what she says or how she seems."

"Mirana or Iracebeth?"

"Indeed," Nivens appeared lost in thought. "You are learning but your task just got much harder. Now you must keep your wits about you twice as much."

"Worried about me?"

"Humph," Nivens turned to hop away, "I highly doubt it. I am more concerned with saving my own skin."

"I will be careful, I promise. 'Tis a fine coat."

"Yes, well, I groom…" As if remembering the circumstances, he threw a glare her way with a mutter. "What a shame you can't simply distract people to death."

She swallowed a smile, took a breath and pushed the door, the creak so loud in the stillness of the castle. She was greeted by a sight so unexpected that she knew surprise was evident, something confirmed by the smirk written all over the familiar face. "Well well, hello… Um. It's been far too long, quite many a year judging by your looks. You, just as I, appear a little… transformed."

"What happened to your head?" Alice blurted out, blushing instantly.

"My head, why what an excellent starting point of discussion – my bulbous head and the tumour pressing on my brain."

"It's gone…" Alice waved a hand in the direction of the red queen's head.

"It's gone? Well, that's matter of opinion. The better question is how something disappears when it never was."

"Never was?" Alice frowned.

"Yes, a rather brilliant concoction, I am proud of my sister. That lie was far more clever than anything I could've cooked up. Matters of health, so awkward, don't inspire conversation – her ruse ensured nobody would ever dare ask."

"Ask what?"

"What truly happened and what caused it… but something tells me, dear Um, that you are dying to know."

"I couldn't care less."

"Oh but you do. It is the reason why you brought me here, because only I hold all the answers. So let us both be upfront. I will tell you everything, the truth, what we both know and what she doesn't…"

"And in exchange…?"

"And in exchange… I only ask one thing."

"Well…?"

"Ah ah ah," Iracebeth shook her finger, chain jangling, "I will reveal my favour in the end."

"You're crazy if you think that I will acquiesce to your request."

"Well then, my dear Um, we'll have no bargain. So ask yourself one thing – how far is it you're willing to go? What price will be too high to save her? What will she be if she continues her decline? And when you know, when you're willing to face the truth, when you accept your… pitiful feelings for her won't be nearly enough to overcome this… well, then, Alice Kingsleigh, you come visit me again."


End file.
